(I DO NOT AGREE NOR SUPPORT CAPTAINHOWDIE'S ACTIONS. THIS IS MERELY OUT OF BOREDOM.)
"ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ˡᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᵒⁱᶜᵉ."
You have fallen victim to the Enigma Of One-Sided Friendships and his troubl...
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"Y/n, please... just say something. If you give me one word, I promise I won't bother you again," Randal pleaded, his voice breaking as he knelt beside her bed. She lay still under the heavy blankets, her eyes vacant as they stared up at the ceiling, the dim light casting soft shadows across her face. The room was eerily quiet, the only sound was Randal's desperate whispers and the faint rustle of the sheets. "I'm begging you. I'm so worried about you and want to help, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's wrong." His voice wavered, betraying the anguish and helplessness etched deeply into his expression.
"Randal...who—who are you talking to..?" Sebastian asked nervously. To say the least, he was uncomfortable hearing Randal whisper like that...he couldn't see anything since it was so dark in the room.
"It doesn't concern you," Randal snapped, his voice sharp and unyielding. Sebastian flinched and huddled further into the corner, a soft whimper escaping him. "Please... just talk to me. I'll do anything. I don't want you to be like this anymore," Randal implored, his tone softening as he leaned closer. He gently squeezed her hand, his eyes pleading as he searched her face. Her eyes were empty and distant, a hollow gaze that only deepened Randal's sorrow. The weight of her silence seemed to press heavily on his chest.
Randal rested his head on her stomach, hiding his face in his arms as he felt his eyes burn. It's been a while since he felt his eyes burn with the hot tears. He wasn't ready. He never was ready for it. Why can't he put a stop to this cycle? Why is it always happening? No matter how hard he tries to make the loop turn in another direction, he's always back in a circle. Why can't this all matter how he wants it to? He's sick of the same dialogue. He's sick of the same settings. He's sick of the same people. He's sick of the same outcome.
When will this void in his head go back to the way it was? Why must he sit here helplessly as he watches the color drain from her face along with his mind all over again? Again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
He can't bring himself to go through it all again. The exhaustion of the endless struggle weighs heavily on him, a constant reminder of his failures. Yet, despite the crushing despair, he refuses to give up on her. He can't bear the thought of letting her go; the very idea feels like an unbearable void that he's not sure how to navigate. The thought of learning to live without her is not only daunting but unthinkable. He had convinced himself that he was on the brink of success, that he was finally close to pulling her back from the brink of oblivion. Each attempt had been laden with hope, only to end in disaster and shattered dreams. Each failed effort has left him more disheartened than the last, but the thought of relinquishing her to fate, of conceding defeat, is a burden he cannot bear.
He doesn't have anyone to turn to for help. Y/n, consumed by her struggles, is unable to offer any support. Luther, who doesn't give a flying fuck about what's going on with her, could care less. Sebastian curled up in his corner, is paralyzed by his fears and uncertainties, unable to lend a hand. Some pet he is. Even the so-called Catman, with all their supposed prowess and capability, stands around ineffectually, unable to provide any meaningful aid. Each person or being that could potentially offer help is entangled in their problems, leaving them isolated and helpless, with no one to reach out to in their moment of dire need.
Randal's gaze crept upward, his eyes darting nervously from his trembling arms to your face, desperately searching for any hint of movement, any sign of change. His heart raced as a cold sweat formed on his brow, each second stretching into an eternity. But as he finally met your gaze, the glimmer of hope in his eyes was instantly crushed. A jolt of icy dread seized his stomach, twisting it into knots. The shock reflected in his eyes, magnified by the lenses of his glasses, revealed a terror that seemed to suck the very air from his lungs. What he saw in your expression was far worse than he had ever imagined. The world seemed to hold its breath.
"No..." He whispered. "No...Nononononononono—" He quickly got onto the bed beside her, grabbing her face(?) as horror slowly rose to his face.
Y/n's face had become a nightmarish void, a gaping black hole that seemed to devour the very light around her. What was once a familiar visage had disintegrated into an unsettling, formless darkness as if some malignant force had hollowed out her features. The blackness oozed with a slow, sinister crawl, spreading like a disease from her eyes, which were now mere dark wells, to her neck, her arms, and her legs. It was as if the void was an animate presence, seething and pulsating, corrupting every inch of her being. The darkness pooled and swirled with a life of its own, relentlessly encroaching on her humanity, turning her flesh into a canvas of inky despair. Randal watched in horrified disbelief as the void expanded, suffocating the warmth and vitality of Y/n, leaving behind only an ever-growing, consuming abyss. His pulse thundered in his ears as he realized with a paralyzing dread that he was powerless to stop this grotesque transformation, his mind racing with terror at the unspeakable unknown that awaited them both.
